Treeology - A reflection on my work in situ

Having the exhibition installed for a month was really valuable, particularly in terms of the amount of time I was able to spend alone with the work and consider how it functioned alongside the other work in this thoughtfully curated space.

In addition, much like an open studio environment, I was able to talk with visitors, many of whom offered insightful and valuable feedback on both my work in particular and the exhibition as a whole.

As a result of this exchange, my work continued to grow in both depth and meaning while it was on the gallery walls. I was, of course, really open to this happening, and it has felt genuinely amazing to experience this process.

There was already a strong visual connection between my painting, particularly the top one, and Bettina’s sculpture. With the addition of Martin’s body print, the grouping really did begin to read as the ‘bodily corner’. It was fascinating to hear how visitors responded to this area of the exhibition. My ‘puddle’ was variously read as a heart or lungs, while the branches of the tree became alveoli. These interpretations created connections between the works that I had not necessarily anticipated, but which felt completely natural within the context of the exhibition.

Breathing was, of course, a significant part of the exhibition — particularly the relationship between our own breathing bodies and the plants and trees that make this possible. This was not something I had thought about very deeply in the past, but spending time with the exhibition and listening to visitors has made this relationship increasingly important to me. It has become paramount in my understanding of the deep physical and emotional connection I have with nature.

Treeology and Sylvester somehow felt as though they were born to be together — the gnarled forms, twisted energy and rich textures creating an immediate and instinctive connection between them.

In my painting, I am beginning to see a more creature-like element emerging: a growing, changing energy that seems to be taking on a life of its own. There is perhaps even a sense of metamorphosis taking place — something shifting and transforming within the work that I am only just beginning to recognise.

Mirrors in the Lane — quiet works, fittingly installed in a quiet, almost hidden corner of the gallery — were nevertheless absolutely loved by our visitors, to the extent that both pieces were sold.

There is so much to say about these works, which were the starting point for this entire project, and I have written about this in more detail in an earlier blog post. I made them earlier in the year, when puddles were plentiful, but with the summer drought they have taken on an additional layer of meaning. The puddles have disappeared, and with them the reflected trees — no water, no trees.

Visitors also brought their own interpretations to the works. Some read them as a view from inside the hollow of a tree, looking outwards, while others once again made connections with the human body and with birth. These different readings have added yet more depth to the works for me, particularly in relation to the ways in which water, trees, bodies and cycles of life are so deeply interconnected.